


Fragile by Comparison

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Daddy Issues, Danger Kink, Dirty Talk, Disaster Kink, Disasters, Dom/sub, Extreme Fantasies, Fetish, Humiliation, M/M, Marijuana, Past Abuse, Power Exchange, Sharing Fantasies, Slurs, Therapeutic Kink, Trauma Recovery, Unusual Fetishes, abuse recovery, death fantasies, extreme kink, non-con fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29069187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: “The sunshine and the moonlight turn me on,” Tony rasps like a dare, meeting Bucky’s eyes dead-on. “Easier to imagine a hurricane’s coming when you’re naked outside.” He licks his lips. “Love to fuck in a storm.”Written for STB Bingo free square, because nothing says "free square" like a... natural disaster fetish?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75
Collections: STB Bingo: Round One





	Fragile by Comparison

**Author's Note:**

> So I totally wrote this note thinking this would be the last fic I posted in 2020 and then I got stuck. Oops. But it still applies:
> 
> This has been such a lovely year in fanfic life, readers! Between Discords and getting at least a _little_ more engaged in responding to your comments quicker, I feel like we’ve been through this 2020 gauntlet together. I didn’t get a chance to find queer community in my new city, and it was hard to suddenly have a sex drive for the first time in a couple of years during a pandemic, but I ended up dumping a bunch of it into writing porn, and y’all did not disappoint with your feedback. ❤️I was reflecting on what writing in fandom means to me, and honestly I feel like I'm the Oprah of new kinks sometimes with my writing. You get a new kink! And you get a new kink! ...honestly maybe this is its own kink? Kink distribution fairy. If I gave you a new (fic or otherwise) kink this year, you’re welcome-slash-I’m sorry? 😀 
> 
> My “porn Patreon” will launch in 2021, as I’m leaving my ten-year career (gasp) to write and do intuitive counseling/tarot reading full time. There you’ll have the opportunity to give input on what I write, see some early previews, and read original fiction in addition to fanfic. I kind of feel like I need to have some kind of “Ask Vik” column there for folks who accidentally liked a kink they didn’t expect to ask questions about it (or for some more fic with it), LOL. Would folks be interested in that?
> 
> As a reminder, you can follow me on Twitter @viklikesfic and I’ll let you know as soon as that Patreon is live. Happy 2021!
> 
> CWs for this story: fetishizing natural disasters, danger kink, some pretty intense fantasies involving death and injury. There’s no graphic violence actually _happening_ in the text, but there’s a lot of fantasizing about it including graphic descriptions. Degradation talk. Slurs. Kind of a hint at macro/micro or crush fetish. Also: non-graphic mentions of past child abuse, dealing with trauma as an adult. Slightly dubious meteorological and geological science. Brief weed usage.

“Hey JARVIS, is Tony on campus?” Steve calls out as the majority of the team gathers in the Avengers dining area for family night.

“I’m afraid not, Captain. Mr. Stark is doing oil cleanup in the Arctic.”

“ _ Again _ ? How much oil  _ is _ there?”

Bucky’s focus sharpens on Steve’s conversation as JARVIS explains something about environmental cleanup and climate change that sounds a whole lot like  _ bullshit _ to Bucky’s ear. Natasha’s not in the room though, so there’s no one to verify his impression with. 

A month later, Tony’s gone for several days doing disaster relief alone in Puerto Rico. There’s a pattern, but Bucky’s not exactly sure what it points to yet. He trusts his instincts and follows his gut. Two months later that leads him to South America on a hunch, well before word of Iron Man’s location gets out. Through heat sensor goggles Bucky watches Tony in his structurally sound hotel room, on the carpet on all fours, convulsing more dramatically than the earthquake aftershocks would suggest. His hand is down his pants. It’s a compromising position, no two ways about it, so Bucky’s not subtle.

“I saw you come,” he declares, sprawled across a leather bench inside Tony’s private jet a few days later. The fact that Tony is here is public now. He helps emergency workers rescue people from earthquake-damaged buildings. People are incredibly grateful. He saves hundreds of lives. And then he returns to the jet, dirty and sweaty and exhausted, and Bucky’s waiting for him.

“Excuse me?” Tony stops dead in the aisle, whipping his sunglasses off. Behind him, a flight attendant stows his carry-on. Bucky suspects he sent for the jet and a bag only after flying down at top speed in the suit to meet the tremendous earthquake. It’s not the infamous plane with the stripper poles anymore, though Bucky’s heard stories. The Stark Industries jet is Pepper’s now, but Tony can afford his own transportation.    
  
“I watched you. The shocks made you come.” Bucky’s matter of fact, at ease in his wide stance on the bench. He drops one hand to palm the bulge in his pants, drawing Tony’s attention to it. He has a mystery to unravel, but he also has a hunger in his belly that’s new and intriguing. He  _ wants _ Tony, and he wants so little these days. He’s hardly concerned with social graces, and he’s sure the flight attendant and pilots have seen worse working for Tony. “Is it the danger that turns you on? The power?”

Tony bites his lip. He’s obviously not sure whether this is meant to be an attack, whether he should get angry or intrigued. He advances cautiously, nodding to the flight attendant to get underway. He approaches Bucky but stops a couple of feet shy, bracing one hand on the ceiling of the plane. It shows off the musculature of his arm. Cute. Bucky could ruin him, but he won’t. Tony’s a puppy, but he’s interesting. 

Still, Bucky doesn’t want Tony to get the wrong idea. He surges up and easily manhandles Tony back and then to one side against the bulkhead in front of God, the flight attendant, and everyone. He doesn’t hesitate to pin the smaller man in place by both shoulders. Tony gives a subtle flick of his hand—a stand-down order to the crew—and Bucky growls at his mouth.

“Can the suit take a tornado?”

Tony shivers all over, his eyes flinching shut. It’s like a miniature, brief orgasm right there in Bucky’s arms. 

“I don’t like to fuck indoors,” he whispers in contrast to his much louder physical reaction. His body tenses like the admission cost him, so Bucky guides him down into a plush seat, settling in the one next to it. 

“Tell me why,” he growls in Tony’s ear, hand proprietary on Tony’s thigh. It’s an obvious seduction, but Bucky also wants to understand the puzzle before him. Extreme submission, obviously, but Tony’s a city kid. He’s used to luxury like this private jet, with its custom features including a minibar opposite their pair of wide leather-upholstered seats. He’s not exactly an advertisement for a love of nature. Tony pours a double Scotch and knocks it back.

“The sunshine and the moonlight turn me on,” Tony rasps like a dare, meeting Bucky’s eyes dead-on. “Easier to imagine a hurricane’s coming when you’re naked outside.” He licks his lips. “Love to fuck in a storm.”

“You like the risk.”

“Love it. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but if the only harm is to property… the bigger the better.” Tony grins. “Avalanches are my favorite. Ocean’s the hardest... also the most rewarding, and it’s predictable. Look, if I’m hard up I can get off watching animals rip each other to shreds in a nature documentary, but... there’s nothing like being there for an avalanche or a tsunami. Those forces are so unbelievably  _ powerful _ , I mean you’re talking laws of physics, gravity, acceleration, momentum, weather…” Tony’s working himself frantic, talking in alternating rushes and pauses like he does when he’s excited, and Bucky doesn’t stop him. They’re starting to taxi down the runway, so he buckles Tony’s seatbelt first, then his own, and finally rests his hand in Tony’s lap and gives his bulge a firm rub as Tony continues. “They can  _ fuck _ me,” Tony spits, his eyes briefly fluttering shut on an inhale at the caress of Bucky’s hand, “like no human can. Even just witnessing them.” 

“And being there?” Bucky asks mildly. “Does that  _ really _ fuck you, Tony?” 

“Yeahhh,” Tony moans, rolling his hips lightly against Bucky’s hold. 

“Tell me what you think about.”

“I think about how I could die,” Tony gasps, his head falling back and his eyes shut as the plane lifts off the runway. Bucky keeps the press of his palm steady along with the pressure of the rising jet. 

“Yeah?” Bucky whispers.

“Yeah. How small I’d be,” Tony gasps. “It’s almost… it’s humiliating,” he whimpers, voice gone a little thin and almost childlike. His head rolls to the side against his headrest, and he gazes at Bucky from beneath his lashes. “How I think I’m so important but really I’m so  _ small _ relative to oceans or mountains or clouds.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “You’re tiny, Tony. Tiny Tony Stark,” he singsongs, wishing they were flying through thunderclouds right now so that he could pick up on that mood. “Mountain doesn’t give a  _ fuck _ about you.” Tony bucks his hips and whimpers loudly. “You got any real porn on your phone?” Bucky’s gaze is hard, just daring Tony to pull out girl-on-girl or something. He regards Bucky for a long second, but in the end he doesn’t take the out. He swipes through to a compilation of major natural disasters, professionally shot. Bucky grins. “Good boy. So an avalanche is your favorite?”

“Yes,” Tony gasps.

“You like thinking about how the mountain would crush you? All the tiny little bones in your body? It’d be so relentless… so  _ brutal _ . Your bones would crack and your body would be all used up and spit out by the mountain. Pieces would land hundreds of miles apart. Like you’re just trash, Tony. Like that’s all you are.”

Apparently his instincts are right on point. Tony writhes and jerks and almost jackknifes with pleasure. Bucky peeks at the phone screen, currently showing a giant wave cresting in a storm, flashes of lightning illuminating the danger. “That ocean’s no different, Tony. You’d be swallowed whole. Ocean’s difficult for you, didn’t you say?” Bucky whispers in his ear. Tony nods frantically. “Yeah. I know why.”

He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. But his purring bluff makes Tony melt and convulse and Bucky wonders what the fuck Tony’s reason could be. How deviant, how perverted. Tony’s kinks are already pretty extreme. Even Bucky doesn’t normally indulge in murder fetishes. His therapist would consider it unstable behavior.

“Do you really use the poor unfortunate children as your excuse?” Bucky whispers in his ear as Tony comes. “Hard to believe that’s really why you do it...” 

It’s right on the edge. Tony could safeword at any moment, and Bucky’s ready to back off. But he doesn’t.

“You go in with the suit?” Bucky pushes. “Sometimes?”

“Yeah,” Tony gasps. “Not water. It’s scary as fuck. ...I want to,” he adds, his voice low, eyes out the window like he doesn’t expect anyone to be up for that. Bucky grabs him by the jaw and forces his gaze. 

“I’d have your six,” he promises. “I’ll  _ always _ have your six. You don’t go without me on backup as a spotter.”

“Uh….”

“And _ listening _ ,” Bucky purrs, and he feels Tony’s cock just barely stir again under his palm. Bucky’s so hot for the idea of Tony risking his life (but actually trusting Bucky with it) that he can barely stop himself from putting his dick in the man immediately. Tony’s ruined him for any more mundane fantasies.

~*~

“Imagine the way it would fuck you,” Bucky purrs one night, stretched out along Tony’s body length. They don’t fuck like this, safe in a bed, but Bucky likes to tease. “When it takes your life. The ocean this time, since it’s the mountain that brought you in. It’d be so much more  _ powerful _ than a normal orgasm. All that energy sucking you up into its essence… like you were being made into something important... made beautiful by your own destruction,” Bucky promises, and he knows he’s got it right when Tony starts to shake and grind helplessly against him, a slave to his own body’s powerful urges. “You’d feed a greater force, Stark. Your body would become a part of the tides. Your  _ pathetic _ life,” he spits, really playing up his feigned disgust, “would be given meaning.” Tony ruts against him like a bitch in heat. “Tell me the story,” Bucky whispers in his ear. “How did the mountain baptize you?”

“It started earlier,” Tony gasps for breath. “With a hurricane. I was a kid, I can’t remember how old, but it was the first time..” He takes another breath, slower, centering himself. “Even  _ Howard _ couldn’t fight it. Privilege, money, none of it mattered. He was stupid and narcissistic enough to believe that the hurricane would go  _ around _ him, swore the weathermen were being overenthusiastic. By the time he admitted he was wrong, it was too late to evacuate. We were helpless for the first time in my memory. Seeing  _ him _ afraid… seeing him  _ wrong _ about something… it made me feel drunk. I wanted more.”

“Then what?” Bucky gently traces from Tony’s earlobe down his neck, soothing. He’s seen hints that Howard was abusive to his son, but this is intimate, this storytelling, and he can’t fly off the handle. Bucky literally killed the man already. There’s nothing more to be done.

“There was this wraparound porch at that vacation cottage,” Tony recalls. “I snuck out onto it, in the middle of the storm. Howard had started drinking, Maria had taken her pills.” His mouth curls into an ugly smile, and Bucky doesn’t miss that he calls both his parents by their given names. “I wasn’t stupid enough to actually go out in the middle of a hurricane, but the porch was fantastic. Rain and seawater spraying through the screen looking like it was going to snap at any second, the whole frame rattling…” Tony lets a soft sigh slip loose, and Bucky wants to sip it out of his mouth. “I got down on my knees and pledged myself to the earth right there, said a vow to it as my God. Anything that could protect me from Howard, or  _ hurt _ Howard, whether or not I survived it, was holy to me.” 

Bucky’s chest goes tight and he grips a fistful of the duvet to avoid grabbing Tony too hard. “I wish I could kill him again,” he hisses, and he doesn’t care how twisted it is. Apparently, neither does Tony, if the way he grabs a fistful of hair at the base of Bucky’s skull and kisses him hard on the mouth is any indication. 

“I love that you did it,” Tony whispers, a secret and a benediction that makes Bucky feel warm all the way down to his toes. “ _ Fuck _ ! That’s so fucked up.”

“Yes,” Bucky agrees like it’s a compliment, licking up the line of Tony’s jaw and tugging the earlobe with his teeth. “And it’s your right to feel any way you goddamn want to about him,” he growls. 

Tony gasps and grabs Bucky’s hips, grinding against him. His eyes are sharp despite the cloud of his arousal. “Your dad hit you.”

“Regularly,” Bucky agrees, but that’s all he gives. He doesn’t in truth remember the details, beyond the terror instinctively associated with a brown leather belt, and he’s all right with that. It’s a memory Steve never volunteers. 

To redirect, Bucky grabs Tony’s thigh and bodily rearranges them, sandwiching their legs so that each hard cock has a thigh to rub against. Tony might not always be able to come like this, just from  _ talking _ about it, but he’s hard and Bucky doesn’t mind taking his pleasure from a consenting Tony whether Tony comes or not. 

Tony does moan enthusiastically, rubbing his face against Bucky’s neck. “I get off on the fact that you killed him. Some sort of white knight syndrome bullshit, right? But it gets my dick hard,” he gasps, rolling his whole body against Bucky’s. “It gets me so ready. Knowing that you slayed my fucking demon for me. That he was  _ afraid  _ of you, like you’re my own personal storm. You know he socked me in the jaw right before? I tell people the sanitized version. In reality he nearly broke my teeth, kicked me in the ribs, and left me crying and too drunk to see on the floor. When they came to tell me what had happened, the replacement butler had to claim I wasn’t home so the agents wouldn’t see the bruises.”

“Replacement?” Bucky frowns.

“Yeah, well,” Tony laughs. “Jarvis had been dead two-and-a-half years by then, so. I guess the new guy was permanent, but I never learned his name. I was an asshole.”

“Anyway,” Bucky nudges, giving Tony’s ass a hard squeeze with the metal hand that makes him gasp and roll his hips again. 

“Anyway...I know this is romantic. Probably can’t be true. But let’s just pretend, okay? For me?” Tony’s breathy, a bit desperate. Bucky nods, not caring exactly what Tony’s asking. He’ll do anything Tony asks at this point. He falls fast and hard, always has. Knows that in his bones, despite the lack of concrete evidence in his spotty memories. “Pretend that you were called to protect me, somehow. I want to believe that you really were my personal storm,” Tony clarifies. His smile is small and shy even as he rides Bucky’s thigh like a bronco. Bucky kisses him like he never wants to let go.

~*~   


“So... the hurricane stuck with me.” They’re sweaty and flopped side-by-side on the bed after another round. Bucky’s got one hand over Tony’s thigh, massaging out the overworked muscle. Bucky has an answer to his earlier question. It’s not as easy, but Tony  _ can _ come from just thinking about destruction without visual stimulus, whether in the form of a natural disaster or a human one, his “personal storm.” Bucky has so many ideas forming. “But I didn’t witness any major disasters for quite a few years after that. When I did, I was going through puberty at MIT and had a hot older girlfriend for no obvious reason other than my money, and we were on vacation skiing in Switzerland.”

Bucky narrows his eyes and digs harder into the muscle, forcing a low dirty groan out of Tony. “Avalanche?” Could have been a blizzard, but he knows how his lover feels about mountains. And he remembers his initial question.

“Yeah. Close call. I’d fucked her, for the first time, the night before. But it was a kind of underwhelming performance, and I was feeling awkward about it. We could see the avalanche coming from behind, only a hundred yards to the right across the slope. No way we were gonna out-ski it, so we ducked under the cover of a pretty big old rock formation that didn’t look like it was gonna come down. We got in there and it felt like… fate. Like God was literally coming back to collect on my pledge.” Tony laughs, bitter. “You wouldn’t expect me to be the religious member of the team, wouldya Stormy?” The nickname is new, and it pleases him. “Well, it was a formative experience, let’s just say. I sat down with my back to the corner, right? And she sat between my legs, my arms around her, so I could pretend to be the protector. Like my acting job mattered,” Tony mutters, an aside. “She was in it for Stark designs. That I showed her like a dumb puppy begging for praise.”

Bucky growls, wordless, and turns to nip at Tony’s neck, staking a claim. If anyone tries to hurt Tony on  _ his _ watch, he will  _ relish _ …

Tony shouts softly and smiles when Bucky lifts his head. “Anyway, on the mountain, I felt so helpless… so  _ dominated _ by nature. And my dick was harder than it had been up to that point in life. It was so  _ natural _ , that my cock responded to the feel of the earth shaking and the sound… fuck, I can’t even describe the sound to you, but it was like I was  _ made _ to get hard for that shit. It was just  _ sex _ . I couldn’t focus on anything else. I’m sitting there trembling, like the full-on shakes, half-hoping this is how I die. Sunset thinks I’m some pussy. But the whole mountain’s shaking and I can feel it in my asshole,” Tony whispers his confession, his eyes a little wild, “and I don’t  _ understand _ that the mountain’s fucking me, but I’m fully frozen, just taking it from this fucking avalanche that’s maybe 50 yards away now. It’s so  _ loud _ . Your body shivers with the vibrations, and I was that kind of high where you can’t keep your mouth shut” (Bucky doesn’t know that kind of high, but he won’t say anything about it) “and I didn’t even think, I just started whispering in her ear what I was getting off on with my dick against her ass, that I was thinking about getting crushed by the rocks as they roared down the mountain so close to our position.”

“Fuck, Tony,” Bucky whispers, flipping rattlesnake-fast onto his front, pinning Tony down with one knee shoved up against his groin. He leans half his weight on Tony’s wrists, and Tony squirms. “Did it make you so hot?”

“ _ Yesss _ ,” Tony hisses. “It was… still hard to fathom. Maybe even harder then, because it hadn’t stopped,” Tony murmurs. “I thought it would stop, but… anyway, it was hard to fathom something more powerful than my father. It made me feel… hot. There was this kind of pulling sensation in my belly that I couldn’t identify. I still wasn’t quite sure what was happening.”

“You didn’t know that it was fucking you?” Bucky grinds his knee against Tony’s balls and he writhes like a dancer. 

“No,” Tony gasps. “Or maybe… maybe I did, but. I didn’t know everything. I didn’t understand that all I wanted to do was bow down to the earth again like a new Daddy. But I did know that I wanted to pledge my life to it again, I knew I wanted to fall to my knees and pray. I’d only ever felt that way twice. This time it felt...  _ different _ .”

“Because your little dick was hard?” Bucky purrs, sliding one hand in between his own knee and Tony’s package to give it a squeeze with one hand. It’s a generous handful, but something tells him Tony will like this calibration. 

“Fuckyes,” Tony spits. “I… she felt it against her ass and called me a freak after,” he admits. “I kind of liked it. I skied down to the base with a hardon.”

“Down to the base, huh?” Bucky smirks and Tony laughs. 

“A mountain is not a  _ dick _ !” he whines, flailing his hands as much as he can with his wrists pinned by an unyielding metal grip. 

“No? Sure  _ fucks _ ya like one,” Bucky argues, sliding down to grind his thigh against Tony’s dick as he says it. Tony moans low and melts like jelly. 

“I had all these images consuming me after that,” he murmurs, after Bucky thinks he’s dropped out. “Images of getting crushed, getting buried. I didn’t tell Sunset. I didn’t tell anyone, I mean, I just… thought about it. I didn’t think I was suicidal, but I was still scared. Then the first time I jerked myself off to an orgasm on purpose, I was thinking about the mountain swallowing me whole, imagining the trajectory angled just a little towards our hiding spot. I was thinking about the rocks coming down,” Tony confesses. “Wondering if I subconsciously picked a spot that wasn’t really structurally sound, just because I wanted to see the face of my God again.” He blushes so sweet that Bucky has to curl forward and nip at a cheek. “I felt so guilty later. What if I had risked her life, you know? I was fucking confused.”

“But you got yourself off thinking about it?” Bucky prompts, getting Tony back on track.

“Yeahhh,” he drawls. “I was thinking about that one...  _ electric _ moment of anticipation, right before the rockfall reached our altitude, wondering whether I was going to die and not even afraid of it. I’d never felt anything like it. I told a reporter once… I don’t  _ fear _ death. I don’t laugh at it either. I lick my lips... invite it in…” Tony’s voice is low and seductive. “I say ‘hey death, let’s play.’” He laughs. “I’m a cocky shit. No one knew how literal and sexual I was being. No one has, until you.”

“Really?” Bucky’s eyes narrow. He hadn’t expected that, or his reaction to it. He feels greedy and cocky and possessive, ready to take on the whole world in defense of this man.

“Who would I tell?”

Bucky cocks his head to the side. Honestly, he’d assumed Tony could have  _ stables _ of boys and girls getting off on his fetish with him, or at least getting off on watching him  _ enjoy _ the fetish. He suddenly feels even more greedy with lust, two sins for the price of one. He jams two fingers into Tony’s mouth, gets them wet, and tickles the back of Tony’s throat to make him gag a bit. Then he works both fingers into Tony’s ass. He’s glad they’re getting past the story of the girlfriend and her disgust that her man got a firmer erection from a near-death experience than from fucking her. Bucky may have to hunt that woman down, later.

“I didn’t think anyone would ever be interested,” Tony admits, his voice going softer. “Not like you. You’re…”

“ _ Fascinated _ ,” Bucky interrupts, before Tony can point out that he’s a killer or a criminal or a worse, a torture victim. Also an  _ abuse _ victim, they’d say these days. “Yes.”

“I can’t get off on regular sex, but… I can get creative. I’ve made it work.”

“I like to humiliate you,” Bucky blurts out, not sure where the thought came from, but now it’s on the table. “I like that you have a weird fetish, and… it makes you feel  _ small _ .” He can’t analyze  _ why _ that’s hot, why it makes his dick so stiff. He doesn’t want to think about what it means that he gets off on his partner not having any of the control. But he doesn’t have to. Tony shudders with pleasure, grinding up Bucky’s thigh like it’s a pole. It’s amusing to watch him try to fuck himself, its own separate humiliation. 

“Please,” Tony whispers.

“God,” Bucky growls, releasing his wrist and shoving him up against the headboard, thrusting his thigh between Tony’s legs. “You’re such a fucking  _ weirdo _ , freak. Getting off on tragedy, what the hell is wrong with you?” It makes him feel powerful to bark at a billionaire like this, and for Tony’s part he’s grinding desperately, head tipped back in clearly enthusiastic consent, the long line of his throat so pale and tender. 

“Do you  _ like _ that? Does it get you hot when I tell you what you are, freak? Get you hot to think about getting  _ fucked _ by your personal storm?” he breathes near Tony’s ear. Tony’s trembling, nearing his peak. “I came for you, Tony.  _ I came for you and I killed for you _ . I don’t have to pretend, it’s  _ true _ . My sweet little freak. Are you coming? You gonna come while I insult ya, whore?” He slaps Tony once hard across the face, and Tony convulses like he’s been possessed by a demon. 

“You know what I love about you?” Bucky murmurs in Tony’s ear before the spasms have fully subsided, sliding two quickly lubed-up fingers into his ass and using his knees to force Tony’s thighs apart. “It doesn’t matter somehow, that it’s not me. I’m possessive as  _ fuck _ ,” he admits, using a phrase he recently picked up from social media, and Tony shivers with what feels like delight. “But I love the idea of you being brought so low by a storm or an avalanche or an earthquake, so  _ low _ ,” he purrs, predictably causing Tony to hiss and arch his back. “That I don’t even care that it’s not me doing it to you. I like thinking of you being so dominated,” Bucky grunts, working his cock into Tony’s tight asshole, “that none of your glitz and glamor matters. I want you stripped down bare, down to nothing. And then... I want to watch you get  _ fucked _ ,” he gasps in Tony’s ear, shoving his hips forward until he bottoms out. “We need to find ways to make that happen.”

“JARVIS tracks likely disaster sites,” Tony gasps. 

“Good boy. Now relax and let me fuck you.” 

~*~

Their first trip is to the Alps. They can’t predict an avalanche, but they can fly with the Iron Man suit to risky backcountry terrain. Tony puts the suit in sentry mode nearby, accessible with his bracelet and scanning for hazards, but they walk to where it’s not in their line of sight anymore and Bucky pushes him into a tree. Tony’s dressed warmly, with state of the art StarkWear (a custom fit, with strategically placed zippers), but his cheeks and nose are freezing. Bucky kisses him like he’s invading Tony’s mouth, then reaches down and gropes his dick. 

“You know JARVIS picked the most likely spot,” he murmurs in Tony’s ear. “If we’re here long enough, it’s practically inevitable. Think about it. You won’t be able to stop or change your mind once you hear it coming. It’ll be too late. You’ll be dead before you can meaningfully react. The mountain will take you.”

“Not with the suit, it won’t.” It’s unusual for Tony to break scene like this, so Bucky mentally searches for the most likely explanation, quickly dismissing fear at doing this with Bucky in a real setting, and lands on something elegant in its simplicity. Tony’s not backing down. He’s issuing a challenge. 

Bucky laughs. “You think that would stop me? I could grab your wrists, cupcake. Keep you from getting to the bracelet before you understood what I was doing.  _ Smash _ the bracelet,” he threatens, snapping his metal hand into a fist near Tony’s face. “What’re a few bones when the mountain’s about to turn your entire skeleton into dust?” It’s dark, gory, but something in Bucky feels  _ free _ when he’s able to go this deep, to say things that would frighten anyone else into calling for backup. Tony just gasps and tips his head back, tempting Bucky to bite down on his exposed throat. Tony  _ howls  _ to the mountainside, and Bucky squeezes his dick to temper the pain with some pleasure. “Do you think you’d come, Tony? Would it make your sweet little dick spurt before your chest crushed under the weight?”

“I don’t know,” Tony whispers, a bare gasp. Bucky shoves him higher up on the tree trunk and hikes his thighs up around Bucky’s waist. 

“We could find out.”

Tony whimpers, then seems to steel himself. His eyes flash fully open from their half-lidded, sex-drunk state. “JARVIS would pilot the suit. If you hurt me.”

“Yeah? Ya sure about that?” Bucky keeps his tone calm, squeezing Tony’s luscious ass as he grinds the man against the rough pine bark. “His directives are to take care of you, right? To serve you?” Of course it’s more specific than that, but Tony doesn’t interrupt Bucky’s train of thought. “Maybe this is service. He’s watched you for years, hasn’t he? He’s seen how you beg when I talk dirty to you about this shit. He knows what you watch when you’re horny. Maybe he just understands that you’d prefer to die like a slut should, on your back being sacrificed to your god.”

Tony’s eyes blow wide and he shouts loud enough for every living thing on the mountainside to hear, throwing his head back. It’s rough and primal and Bucky loves every minute of it.

~*~

After that, Bucky quickly starts brainstorming more extreme ways for Tony to witness things up close. He does online research to source a vibrating cocksleeve with the slowest possible wave pattern of vibration, not wanting to bother JARVIS with the query (even if he does occasionally involve the AI in their sex life through his dirty talk.) Bucky pilots a quinjet tracking the suit for any emergencies through a storm in the middle of the Atlantic, while JARVIS autopilots the suit itself, keeping Tony just ahead of the breaking waves and swooping up out of their way when necessary. This keeps a terrified and also extremely aroused Tony from having to be in operational control as Bucky whispers dark promises into the comms, and the toy jerks him in time with the waves. He falls apart in Bucky’s ear—sobbing, gasping, crying out. 

A few months later, Bucky instructs Tony to create a transparent structure that can withstand a tornado, in tornado country. The future uses for such a structure are obvious enough that it’s easy to justify beyond their own prurient goals. There are a few misses where they head out in the right weather only to miss any tornadoes, but then one finally hits. The sky outside is an eerie color that sets Bucky’s teeth on edge. They’re both strapped into harnesses connected by durable lengths of cable to the concrete flooring, wearing helmets and other protective gear just in case. But Tony’s eyes are wild and dark and desirous when the whine of the twister that Bucky’s already heard gets close enough for Tony to pick up the sound. He grabs Bucky by the straps of his harness, kisses him hard with their helmets awkwardly clunking together, and then they watch it coming across the plains. 

Bucky wants to throw Tony onto the floor at the look of pure fear-lust on his face, ravage him thoroughly. But he also wants Tony to have a perfect view, so he quickly drops to the floor himself, dragging Tony with him, first in a crouch and then sitting on his ass, tugging Tony into his lap. It fucks with his instincts to be sitting with his back to danger, but Tony is shaking in his arms, not exactly grinding but  _ jerking _ against Bucky’s body when he bends his knees and wedges Tony in. Tony’s arms are wrapped around him, and he squeezes his body tight against Bucky’s as the tornado whips right by them. It’s not a direct course over the structure but the edge swipes it, and Tony convulses in Bucky’s arms, while Bucky mumbles nonsense in his ear that he probably can’t hear over the sound of the winds. And then it’s over, and Tony’s gasping, going completely limp against Bucky’s chest. He lowers himself down, onto his back, and lets Tony curl up on his chest. Mission success.

There’s also the dust storm in the Sahara, an idea Tony proposes only after they’ve been together for more than a year. Bucky never would’ve suggested it himself, knowing the rough sketch of Tony’s experience in Afghanistan and not wanting to bring up old tortures (as much as Tony’s fetish is so obviously directly related to trauma, it still feels weighty to add any layers onto that association.) It’s hard for him like the ocean, Tony explains. But he wants it with Bucky.

They come up with a flimsy excuse for the trip, for taking the quinjet, and they run it just like the scene in the Atlantic, with Bucky in the ‘jet above the storm and JARVIS piloting the suit. Tony admits that he prefers this anyway, having JARVIS in control, as he trusts JARVIS to keep him safe and also prefers that he can keep up the illusion that he’s helpless, that the safeguards could fail. Bucky talks dirty in his ear, and watches the swirling sands through a feed coming from Tony’s HUD, listens to his lover coming undone. It’s tough for him, and when it’s over JARVIS immediately steers him to safety, to the ‘jet, where Bucky helps him out of the suit and wraps him in blankets and holds him close with the autopilot engaged. He whispers to Tony that he’s safe, that it’s over, that Bucky will  _ never _ abandon him, and Tony shakes and lets Bucky take his body weight and later tells him about that long walk through the desert, never believing that a rescue was coming, about assuming that he was going to die buried by the hot and unrelenting shifting sands. He admits that in the moment, with death imminent, it wasn’t all that sexy. Maybe it would’ve been, had there been a storm. But reality was much less dramatic, just the beating sun and the total indifference of the landscape. The victory of escape followed by the letdown of potential failure. 

Of course, normal storms are more common. The private land around the Avengers compound is vast, and they have options. During a summer thunderstorm, Bucky picks a location on the property far from anything that might draw lightning, asks JARVIS to intercept any potential satellite images, and puts Tony in some fairly extreme bondage, lying naked in the grass. “Are you feeling claustrophobic?” Bucky asks, low in his ear through the ever-present comms. He’s sitting a foot away, drenched in the pouring rain but fully capable of carrying Tony out of the elements if need be. Tony doesn’t know that.

Water sluices over his entire body and he jerks, streaking his skin with mud. He’s beautiful. 

“Yeah,” Tony admits, like he hadn’t even though about it before Bucky suggested the idea. “...yeah, I… oh fuck,” Tony whispers. “Stop… oh God. Stop,” Tony mumbles, but it’s not a safeword. He’s said “stop” before. He’s been clear that Bucky’s not to call a scene in response. 

Still. It’s always  _ possible  _ that Tony could forget that he  _ has _ a safeword in the heat of the moment, and though it’s extremely unlikely, given the sharpness of Tony’s mind, the  _ idea  _ of it is surprisingly hot to Bucky. It makes him feel powerful, in control, despite the fact that he’s sitting in a dark, muddy field looking like a drowned rat. The whole area suddenly lights up in a flash of lightning, a few seconds later there’s a thunderclap, and Tony’s body jacknknifes as he lets an unrestrained moan loose. 

“You don’t want me to stop,” Bucky says, and Tony doesn’t disagree. He rolls onto his front, clumsily, his arms and legs bound and what little vision he might have cut off by a secure blindfold. He ruts against the muddy ground, his cheek on the wet grass, and moans again. Bucky settles a firm hand on his ass and lets his boy squirm.

~*~

It becomes hard to top his own ideas. 

Bucky wishes he could offer one of these adventures as a birthday present, but it’s not as if he can direct a natural disaster to occur on the 29th of May. So he sets up various alerts through JARVIS, adding onto them as he comes up with new ideas. They stagger their play with the seasons, and around Tony’s many personal and professional commitments. Sometimes, when Tony starts looking like he desperately needs a chance at full release, Bucky convinces him to re-prioritize.

Other times, the opportunity is rare enough that they jump on it even if it means schedule re-tooling that makes Pepper glad she’s not his assistant anymore. When a major piece of ice shelf is expected to fall off soon, Tony rents an entire small cruise ship. They stay in the Arctic for a week, Tony working remotely through satellite connections, before JARVIS alerts them that the event is imminent. 

Bucky watches from the deck and listens through the comms as Tony pilots the suit close to where the cracks are starting to form. The sound is tremendous. It’s lucky the comms are so good at filtering out voices, but Bucky can still hear it from where he stands, watching the flash of red and gold get very close and then start to fly backward as the tremendous hunks of ice break away and crash into the sea. There’s an overflow of ice and foamy water like a massive waterfall, a powerful chain reaction as more and more breaks off. Bucky’s actually struck silent for a moment, Tony just whispering “oh shit oh shit oh shit” in his ear. Bucky’s not sure anything he could say could be as immense as  _ this _ . 

“I love you,” he whispers, so soft, awestruck and captivated and  _ certain _ . 

Tony doesn’t respond verbally, but he gasps and cries out and the suit’s flight goes slightly wonky for a moment. The whole thing lasts for long, drawn-out minutes, before the sea is finally relatively calm again. The suit jets back towards the ship at speed, and Tony barely slows enough to avoid denting the deck, faceplate already up. Bucky grabs his shoulders to halt his momentum and they crash together, Tony’s lips pressing into his already a little wet with saliva. The alloy slamming into his chest  _ hurts _ , but it’s a good pain, and he hopes Tony feels the same about his fingers digging bruises into Tony’s biceps. “You mad bastard,” Tony gasps when he absolutely has to pull away for air. “I love you too,” he mumbles, but it’s already smushed into another kiss. 

“This is where it started,” Bucky whispers into Tony’s next inhale, still a little wide-eyed and awestruck by the beauty of his lover. His  _ fella _ . “You were in the Arctic, supposedly to do oil cleanup. Steve noticed it wasn’t the first time.” Tony lets the suit disassemble around him and Bucky squeezes his ass, keeping him close, feeling the continued vibration of Tony’s body. He’s a touch warm, like he’s feverish. “I did some research.”

“...there hadn’t been any recent oil spills in the Arctic,” Tony murmurs, his eyes filling with recognition. 

Bucky nods. “Sloppy.”

“I remember that time. It was a throwaway line. I think JARVIS was trying to get me caught.”

“Inaccurate, Sir,” a voice protests from Tony’s wrist.

Bucky’s grin is wide against his mouth.

“Yeah, well. I was in a hurry, I had to rush to see the ice fall, and when JARVIS asked what he should tell the team I snapped at him. Told him he could tell you guys I was cleaning up an oil spill, I dunno, make something up. So…”

Bucky smirks and licks into his mouth again. He gently clasps Tony’s skull in his hands and takes the chance to think about whether JARVIS might’ve known somehow that he’d be receptive, that he’d welcome Tony’s strange trauma-inspired fetishes. He’s not sure how, as he wouldn’t have expected that of  _ himself _ until it happened. It’s hot because it’s  _ Tony _ , because of the way Tony gives all of himself to the forces he worships. It’s because Tony can’t do anything  _ less _ than full throttle, and there’s something about that that turns Bucky on, that makes him want to drive off a cliff with Tony in one of his Maseratis like those women in the film the team made him and Steve watch a few months back.

He has to have the man now, so he hikes Tony up to curl around his waist, letting the armor stand sentry outside while Bucky takes him through the nearest door, down the hall, and into the first cabin they encounter. All the doors are unlocked, so they can fuck in any bed they like. 

Bucky’s wearing a parka, not because he has to but because the cold gives him memories and Tony tells him he doesn’t have to relive those, just like Tony never needs to get violently drunk again. He tosses Tony on the bed (it’s a queen, at least) and strips the parka off first, then tugs his black Henley over his head. He doesn’t bother taking off his jeans because Tony doesn’t want him to, likes the roughness of Bucky’s flies against his bare ass. Tony shoves his own pants and underwear down, because he’s not wearing his flight suit today, and Bucky soon sees why not. He pulls a packet of lube out of one pocket, and a vape pen out of the other. He sucks at the pen, and he’s still trembling a bit, but Bucky knows the weed will mellow him out a bit.

Tony’s stunningly beautiful. Bucky doesn’t have words for it, watching Tony lie there with his mouth on the vape pen and his legs spread casually to let Bucky finger him open. Bucky wishes he had a camera, and then realizes he does. He fishes Tony’s phone out of his pockets, lets Tony give the voice command to unlock it, then takes a photo even as he continues to stretch Tony’s hole so it can take his cock. 

Tony tosses the pen to the side and folds his hands behind his head, rolling his hips to fuck himself a bit on Bucky’s slick fingers. Bucky works him for a few more minutes, then growls and pulls them out when Tony’s eyelids start to droop, guides his dick in to replace them. Tony moans, low and languid. His breath smells like weed, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He likes how Tony is when he’s a bit drugged, even if it’s by an avenue of Tony’s choosing and maybe doesn’t count. He’s calm and compliant, lazily taking Bucky’s cock with a glow still on his face from witnessing the iceflow. 

“What if you did it again…. But JARVIS pushed you under?” Bucky whispers. 

“ _ Fuck _ .” Tony gets touchy about water. Bucky knows it. But it also gets him hard again, his cock already messy from coming in the suit. Bucky kind of wants to shove Tony’s damp underwear into his mouth as a gag, wonders if he could get away with it.

“I,” Bucky confesses, needing Tony to  _ know _ , to know every part of him, “feel more like the Soldier, when I’m cold.” He doesn’t elaborate, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Tony clings to him like a hydra, holds him close as Bucky slowly fucks into him. 

“I love you,” Tony whispers, low and fierce. “I love you everywhere it hurts and everywhere you’re a monster and everywhere you have a demon.” 

He says it like he needs to hear it back, so Bucky responds, “a u tebya,” just as fierce. 

“Same to you,” JARVIS translates from Tony’s watch. 

Tony kisses him, and he tastes blood.

**Author's Note:**

> Before you ask, sequel is a yes. Involving Extremis, Loki, and a lot more processing trauma through kink.


End file.
